


Under the Skin, Against the Skull

by ninjas-that-go (whiteflatz)



Category: Lego Ninjago
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Memory Loss, Post S11, canon? don’t know her!, don’t know what to tag this as lmao, lil bit of arson. as a treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 18:39:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30026127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteflatz/pseuds/ninjas-that-go
Summary: The Scrolls of Forbidden Spinjitzu affected each ninja they came into contact with, though mostly for the worse.
Kudos: 34





	Under the Skin, Against the Skull

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is my first finished fanfiction, i hope y’all like it! i think i kinda lost my original idea halfway through but i still had fun working on it so  
>   
> title is taken from Mother Mother’s “Little Pistol”! YEAH it’s basic but i makes me think of s11

The Scrolls of Forbidden Spinjitzu were ancient artifacts, made by the literal creator of the art of Spinjitzu and oh yeah, the world too. They granted the user the ability to access “forbidden” Spinjitzu, which really, only granted some sort of power-up, like in a video game. Wu didn’t really tell the ninja anything else — he had constantly eyed the scrolls nervously like somehow the old paper scraps would attack him themselves — but the ninja had gotten used to operating with Master Wu’s _laissez-faire_ style of guidance. They were forbidden for a reason, and he had regretfully used them in the past. They had to be horrible, right?

* * *

Even though he’s never seen them before, the first time Lloyd channels the scroll he feels nostalgic.

Maybe it’s some weird connection to his great-grandfather — Lloyd’s long learned to not be surprised by any family secrets anymore — as if some part of the First Spinjitzu Master was trapped in the crumbling parchment and faded ink was suddenly awakened by the presence of his favorite grandson to put in mortal danger.

More likely, though, is the buzz of power, the mumbling undercurrent of energy that’s _so loud_ to Lloyd’s ears, reminds him so much of the Golden Power he used to wield. It reminds him of the aching, sore gap that it left, and then moves in to fill it. He’s flooded with all the same power that wanted him to make, to create, to take upon the world's burden entirely and purge it of imperfections, but it’s less focused on the morals of actually carrying it out. 

Lloyd doesn’t notice how it took him out of it the first time, but he’s hyper-aware of it every single time after. Due to the complex life experience that comes with a dad who was literally taken over by an ancient evil unwillingly, he refuses to indulge it for a second. He brings his foot down. It’s not going to be just him and the scroll. It’s never going to be him and the scroll. If he scared Nya the first time, what would happen the second?

But he doesn’t really get to have that lengthy morals conversation with himself the second time, because they finally get to the Monastery and Aspheera’s already burst down the hangar doors and her entire snake army is lined up neat in little rows, waiting ever so patiently for the chance to kill his uncle and the rest of his family and Lloyd already has the staff in his hands before he can really comprehend the situation any further — he immediately launches himself at the snake sorceress.

If the scroll was loud before, this time the power’s deafening. It settles to a steady roar and his ears and Lloyd’s throws himself completely into battling Aspheera, it’s just him and her alone after all, and he’s not gonna lose, it’s not the Golden Ninja’s job to _fail._

He’s so consumed by battling Aspheera — spin into a tornado here, fall back, strike left, right, parry, spin the staff to deflect that fire that came out of nowhere — that he doesn’t notice the actual tide of the battle, where Aspheera’s got him beat. Lloyd’s strikes are focused, but he’s almost too focused, and it leaves him unprepared when a wall of flames has suddenly cut off his escape route, and Aspheera’s there and quick to the punch. She smiles wickedly and knocks Lloyd to the floor with another round of spinjitzu.

The staff goes tumbling out of his reach and he cries out, the silence of the battle that is suddenly all around him is too much without the overwhelming comfort of the Golden Power — or the Forbidden Spinjitzu. 

* * *

Jay flings himself across the now-scorched garage floor in the heat of the battle and he snatches the abandoned staff from the floor, just short of Aspheera’s reach. He doesn’t notice the extra weight, the wooden staff is already light, but this one with the weird paper flag on top of it — funny, just like those scrolls they were just talking about — is just an extension of himself, completely natural to him.

He continues to not notice until he pulls himself into his Spinjitzu tornado again. Why would he want to try Spinjitzu again when it didn’t work the last few times, Jay doesn’t know. 

But, FSM, the rush he gets from it. It’s almost like when he found his true potential at the Mega Monster Amusement Park, his anxieties have been replaced by pure exhilaration. He’s already high on adrenaline, but now it’s joined by lighting — live electricity — pulsing underneath his skin, laughing with him, making him feel like he could take on a thousand Aspheeras, let alone this measly one vengeful flaming snake lady. 

Jay lets out a loose cackle as his electric blue Spinjitzu tornado crashes into Aspheera’s fiery orange one. Any danger or city-threatening villain has been long forgotten, right now he’s testing how far he can ride this high, keep up the current, just for shits and giggles. What’s a little vortex of unimaginable energy between friends?

But while the lightning elemental’s overflowing with power, so is the snake witch with the stolen flame. And she’s had a lot more practice than the wild boy’s had, in both dogged pursuit of her enemies and in controlling the powers of the scroll. Jay is easily tossed aside.

The staff fumbles out of his grip, and he cries out. The staff is gone, and tries to drag all of his lightning with it, momentum carrying it forward. This doesn’t work, Jay finds out unhappily, because it snaps back and _stings_ — FSM, his entire left side burns like hell — and leaves an awful ringing in his ears and a light feeling in his head he doesn’t quite get over until after the battle. 

* * *

The staff tumbles over and bumps into Cole’s feet. Well, he almost trips over it, and then he does a double take. It’s a simple wooden staff with a near-rotting piece of parchment near the top, and he recognizes the Scroll of Forbidden Spinjitzu immediately. Details are always important on missions.

He kicks it up and catches the staff. It’s perfectly balanced, almost in the same manner his hammer is, and he gives it a couple of experimental spins before launching himself against Aspheera.

They cross staffs and he’s amazed by the shockwave his new weapon creates. It pushes the previously unshakable snake sorceress a couple feet back, he notices smugly. Gaining confidence in a new plan — something expedited in the moment Cole supposes — he leans back.

Everytime Cole takes a step backward the earth responds. It’s not like it didn’t before, but this time it’s clear, it’s loud, and it’s supportive. Even in the midst of battle, surrounded by enemies and stranded in a metal box, Cole can hear it like he did climbing mountains with his mother, connecting to a peace inside that has been hard to replicate since her passing. 

The ground all around him is his rock, and his powerful tether as he launches himself at Aspheera again, wreathed in orange flames. 

This time she’s ready for him though. She whips her tail down low and Cole is taken off guard and severed from his focus. Unwilling to stop the battle for himself, Cole throws the staff as far away as he can for an ally to pick up, ignoring his screaming muscles as it leaves his grip and leaves him prone on the cold floor.

* * *

Kai, ninja expertly trained in all matters of combat he is, feels absolutely useless in this battle. It’s not that he can’t kick a little undead snake ass — he’s been an expert at that since day one — but because he’s had a cold empty feeling smack dab in the middle of his chest since he woke up outside the pyramid, and his worries and self doubt certainly aren’t making it melt.

The Staff of Forbidden Spinjitzu almost soars over his head, but Kai’s wise to the ancient art of catching things too, and he leaps up to catch it. As he takes the stick in his hands, he can sense it reaching out to him, but it stops cold.

Suddenly, the hole in his chest flares and spreads across to the tips of his fingers and down to his feet. Kai would’ve doubled over if he didn’t catch himself with the stupid stick in time. His head bows over and it brushes the scrap of paper with scribbled symbols on it, the contact almost taunting him. 

The emptiness burns through him, reminding him oh-so-much of the wonderful grief that he was left with, five years old with a baby sister and not a single clue about how to run a blacksmithy that they needed to survive. Kai tries to shove it down, to push those fun memories back on the pile for tinder, but it won’t spark, and now Aspheera’s turned her sharp gaze onto him. Unable to kindle anything, Kai panics. He growls and forces his limbs to cooperate — they shouldn’t shut down when he loses a little fire, this is so fucking stupid — and hucks the staff like a javelin, in the direction of Zane, maybe.

* * *

Zane is watching the battle in rapt horror. He’s all too familiar with his vision, and it’s starting to come into context in the worst way possible, playing live out in front of him. He’s come to the end though, which makes him feel worse because he’s suspecting a twist ending on this one.

The staff and scroll come soaring though the air at just the right time: when Kai flung it across the room he was in obvious pain, but his aim proved true. It lands nicely in Zane’s outstretched hands and brings him a sudden cold snap, squeezing Zane’s non-existent lungs tight as they battle against imaginary freezing air.

Zane registers that this new feeling of enhanced coldness is the forbidden power the scrolls promised. Zane also registers Aspheera, looking more than a little miffed at having to play keep away with the second staff and her oh-so-close chance at revenge, turning her attention towards him.

On a half calculated whim Zane pushes the staff down and spires of ice rise from the ground in a train towards the sorceress. Some part of him whispers that it’s instinct. She hisses and raises her staff to counter it with fire but she’s too sloppy, a second too slow to control her stolen element too well. Zane picks up on this immediately and sends more her way, the sheer fractals freezing her army as well. 

He’s now on the move, throwing new ice down where he deems appropriate and checking the enemies’ next moves in the reflections of the ice he’s planted with sharp precision. Aspheera trades another two unsuccessful rounds with Zane. She hisses and starts to charge up round number three on the tip of her staff. Zane is immediately ready to counter, harsh flurries starting to form around him to counter the next heat blast.

It never comes. 

* * *

He wakes up to ice and snow and has no idea how he got there.

A pale, shrewish man is standing in front of him, his face slack with shock. In his hands is a worn wooden staff. “Hello.” he says.

He jumps. “I am sorry, where am I? Who are you?”

“I am Vex. Don’t you remember?” the stranger says.

“Are we friends?”

“Most certainly,” Vex is bowing now, deep and reverent in a way that doesn’t quite hide the hungry gleam in his eye. It goes unnoticed by his acquaintance however. “I am your loyal advisor.”

“My loyal advisor?” He echoes.

“Yes my lord. Have you forgotten?”

The titanium man across from Vex is silent, his face set in a frown. 

“Well no matter. You are the Ice Emperor, my lord. And you have been cast out of your home by invaders.” Vex offers him the staff, rather plain wood with tattered paper wound around the top. “I’d say we’d go and reclaim it.”

The newly-christened Ice Emperor’s gloved hand hovers over the staff. “You’d advise me to do so?”

Vex grins neatly. “Most certainly.”

The Ice Emperor takes the staff, and the temperature drops another ten degrees. It feels familiar and comforting in his hands, and the Emperor feels the chill at the tip of his fingers grow stronger. He knows the blizzard outside of this ice cave, the wind whipping snow into every nook and cranny of the mountains, the snow banks that pile and smother every surface it can find. He freezes, taking in the comforting knowing that this realm has given him already.

The Ice Emperor doesn’t notice his advisor again until the fifth time Vex shouts his name. Startled, if not a little miffed to be interrupted from his element, he turns. “Yes?”

“My lord,” Vex’s tone is placating and gentle, though his wringing hands tell another story. “Shouldn’t we get to the castle by now?”

The Emperor sighs. “I suppose.”

Taking back the castle — _his castle_ , Vex reminds him — is no issue. It makes the Emperor wonder how he even lost it in the first place, but Vex is quick to remind him that it’s likely got something to do with his memories — an Emperor disposed like that was quite easy to take down, he recalls. 

Governing isn’t something that the Ice Emperor remembers either, but his advisor is quick to soothe him there. Vex remembers, Vex knows how this pocket of the Never-Realm is run, so he can take care of the hard stuff. The Ice Emperor can be just a figurehead for his people, a bastion of power to look up to. He’s inclined to disagree, but the snowstorm rages harder outside — trying to argue with Vex while keeping his staff by his side is getting more difficult by the day, the week, the month, the year. 

The Ice Emperor is dressed in fierce armor that has never seen combat. It is frosted with ice and so cold that it burns to the touch, almost like everything else in the palace. His staff has become iced over — the more he used it, the more frost ingrained itself until it became more ice than wood — and his soldiers have too. The Ice Emperor, in his eternal kindness, lends out his power to help sustain them in the subzero temperatures, focusing little pinpricks of cold in every single soldier so they can carry on their duty. Between building back his ice army and maintaining longer snowstorms for his realm, he almost has too much power these days.

Vex refuses the Ice Emperor’s power though, he’s far too busy managing the realm: identifying allies and enemies, extracting trade, making battle plans. He accepts a single reflective sheet of ice for scouting the field ahead, then he goes back to directing troops.

It’s hard to tell if time passes in the palace. The Ice Emperor knows he is not organic, so he doesn’t have to fear his joints failing nor his systems giving out on him. All he knows is the view from his throne, the quick movements from his advisor down below, and the always present, comforting murmurings of the cold all around him coming from his scepter. He’s still and stationary in his place. He’s in power and in control.

One day he feels a new magic in his realm resonating a strangely familiar frequency within him. Vex is wisely attuned to the emperor, and when he asks, the Ice Emperor responds. “Something new has come to this realm. Something familiar.”

His advisor’s eyes widen with something the Ice Emperor hasn’t seen in a long time, fear. Then they narrow again, and Vex is already giving out orders to deal with the problem, always proactive. The Emperor leans back, but it’s hard to not feel a hint of uneasiness. There’s something that could rival his prowess in the Never-Realm, and he has an odd feeling that it’ll be coming for him next.

The green one is brought to a kneel in front of the Ice Emperor, two Blizzard Samurai supporting the unconscious warrior and two more trailing behind as a security measure. The Ice Emperor would think that that’s too little security, but now that the green one’s in a room with him, the guards are a little overkill.

“My Emperor, behold. The stranger in green.” Vex announces, before looking back at the Ice Emperor in surprise. He’s come to stand beside his advisor for the first time in ages, startling the man.

The green one jolts awake suddenly and scans the room with unnatural green eyes. He locks onto the biggest threat, the Emperor and his scepter, apparently troubling from his scrunched up expression. Then something dawns on him. “Zane?” He croaks out.

The Ice Emperor notices Vex tense up beside him. “What did you call me?”

The stranger takes his opportunity. “Zane! Your name is Zane Julien! You’re the Titanium Ninja, the Ninja of Ice, you’re—“ his breath hitches, and he presses up against the crossed spears of the guards. “You’re my brother. I came to bring you home.”

“Step back,” Vex hisses. “You are addressing the Ice Emperor. And he does not take very kindly to lying.”

Sharp frustration stabs through the Emperor. “Let him continue, Vex. Do not forget who is in charge here.”

His advisor sulks and steps back, but something unreadable simmers in his expression. The green one’s eyes are pleading as he continues, rattling off names and telling a story about turning clothes pink? When it proves to be ineffectual, he searches the Emperor again and his eyes linger on the staff. “You were holding the staff with the Scroll of Forbidden Spinjitzu on it when you disappeared… It must’ve corrupted you somehow, how long have you been holding that staff?”

A pinprick of something, grief or longing perhaps, blossoms across the Ice Emperor’s chest. “Many decades.”

“Decades?” His eyes widen and he pushes against the guards again. “Time must work differently here… Zane! It must’ve corrupted your power somehow. Put down the staff!”

Vex sees the perfect opportunity to gain back his good graces and steps in. “My lord! He comes to threaten your power!” Turning to the guards, he barks out a short command: “Seize him!”

“No!” And the green one has broken free of his restraints. He backflips gracefully back, disables the guards behind him, and launches himself at the Emperor standing at the foot of his throne. Another call starts to rise in his throat, likely another plea for him—

The Ice Emperor doesn’t waste time. With a single raise of his scepter, a blast of ice hits his attacker square in the chest and he’s unconscious on the floor.

“You have seen his treachery. Let me execute him, my lord.” Vex sneers at the green warrior, now limp in the guard’s grasp.

“No.” The Ice Emperor ignores Vex’s cry of dismay and turns his attention to his soldiers. He can’t allow him to be killed yet, something in the Emperor whispers faintly. “Lock him in the dungeon.”

The green one returns sooner than the Ice Emperor thought he would. The formling stands over him, a delicately carved blade primed and eyes hot with grief and rage. Her expression wavers, but her hands are steady, ready to let the knife fly true.

He interrupts them, his hands crackling with an energy the shade of green that the Emperor hasn’t seen in decades. After so long of being the only force of elemental power, feeling another’s again is almost overwhelming for him. The green one is telling the formling to stand down, and she’s vehemently refusing to do so. Back and forth they go, tinny voices echoing across the too-big throne room. Having no time for their bickering, the Ice Emperor shoots a blast of ice between them, effectively shutting them up and sending them scrambling in opposite directions.

The formling rounds around his back, but he takes care of her quickly, she is immobilized and frozen to a column by her claws. The green one’s frontal assault proves to be more difficult — he is able to dodge every single attack, all while pleading, calling out for Zane — it infuriates the Emperor. His scepter, finely attuned to its master, responds in tandem. It glows malevolently, and the green one is stuck securely in a patch of dark ice. He’s frozen from the shoulders down, so he could still plead if he wished to, but as the Emperor approaches victoriously he shuts up, tense with fear.

Vex, having disappeared during the fight, is by the Emperor’s side at an instant. He holds a guard staff — with none of the elegance of an actual guard — and is wearing a thin, ugly smile. “Do it, my lord. Finish him!”

The green one looks up at the Ice Emperor. His face is set, like he’s already accepted his fate. He whispers the name like he’s scared to try. “Zane.” The Emperor hesitates.

The advisor next to him does not, his patience worn thin. “I’ll do it then.” Vex readies the spear, sneering as he faces the prisoner. “Some savior you turned out to be. You couldn’t protect your friends. You couldn’t even protect yourself.”

Something in the Ice Emperor’s head whirs and clicks, and it initiates a hard reboot.

* * *

Zane wakes up to ice and snow and he knows all too well how he got there.

It takes a half-second for all of his memories to come back, and his vision whites out. When Zane refocuses, everything is so loud: Vex is gloating arrogantly, Lloyd is straining against the ice, the frozen staff in his hands is humming again. He doesn’t waste any more time. 

“Vex. Don’t!” he calls, knocking him aside. 

Vex, startled, stumbles back. The spear goes flying from his inept hands and tumbles behind him. “My lord — my emperor, I—“

A freezing pinprick of rage pierces through Zane’s chest. Pointing his scepter at his advisor, he pulls off his frozen faceplate off to emphasize his point. “Do NOT call me that.” Vex’s eyes widen and he glances around nervously as he tries to think up a way to worm out of this—

“Zane?” Lloyd’s voice sounds from behind him. Zane turns to see him, a little uneasily, but Lloyd’s got a relieved smile already starting to form on his face. “Zane! You’re back!”

Zane goes over and starts to defrost Lloyd’s ice prison, very carefully as not to damage him any further. “Yes. Thank you for not giving up on me.” he murmurs quietly.

“You never gave up on me.” Lloyd’s smile is gentle but his eyes are so, so tired. Zane doesn’t want to imagine the trek alone through the Never-Realm to get here, much less the dangers inside the castle.

Suddenly the throne room doors burst open, with almost too many people for the doorway to handle. It’s the rest of his family — Jay and Cole are supporting an exhausted Kai while Nya walks ahead of them — and others, Grimfax, the bear formling, and some sort of yeti, he assumes? Lloyd perks up immediately, and the wolf formling stares bewilderedly at the ragtag crew from her spot by the column. Zane gasps and takes a step back subconsciously.

In less happy returns, Vex comes roaring back at Zane. His eyes are full of malice and his lips are pulled back in a tight snarl, he makes a desperate attempt to grab the frozen scepter from Zane. Caught in a brief tug of war with him, Zane pulls his foot back and kicks his (now former) advisor in the gut. In the heat of the moment and likely for good measure, he’ll tell himself later, Zane swings the staff over his head and slams it down on the palace floor. Fragile wood and delicate ice don’t stand a chance, and it shatters to a million pieces.

Zane lets out a strangled gasp and soon he’s on the floor too. He can’t feel his soldiers, his dragon Boreal, not even the raging blizzard outside. After decades with the staff in the Never-Realm, the silence is far too deafening for the nindroid now. Every extension of his power, starting with the ice in the throne room, starts to melt rapidly without its power source, and everyone crowds around Zane, shouts of concern falling muffled on his ears.

Through the thick of it all, Zane can clearly see Kai stumbling forward. His fire must’ve come back by now, as his gi is tattered and burned, and he holds a flaming palm up as he investigates something on the floor. Without a second doubt, Kai lights the remaining wood shards and scraps of the Scroll of Forbidden Spinjitzu. Zane can feel the pain flare hot in his chest.

Good.

* * *

After they come back from the Never-Realm they’re so worse for wear that Master Wu, his face still tight with sadness, gives them the whole week off of training. 

It isn’t taken lightly, the ninja go into hardcore recovery mode, but by day five they’re all pretty much well enough to move around and train, though they’re not gonna tell Wu that. Instead they gather, and Nya tells them one thing she’s had on her mind for a while. 

“We should burn the remaining scroll.” she announces. 

The circle she’s summoned gives a general note of confusion. Nya looks around it and there’s Cole, rubbing his sore arms like they were still frostbitten, and Jay, who's holding his left arm in a hitched manner that has to have something to do with the new jagged scars that snake down it. 

There’s Kai, who has fresh and ugly burns on his forearms from overtaxing his returning powers against Boreal, Zane, who’s hands will not stop shaking despite how warm the late spring sun shines on them, and Lloyd, who’s been unconsciously holding himself like he’s trying to keep something in his chest — Nya hasn’t figured out what yet but she’s onto him. 

Nya’s still got a knot of emotions locked away in her chest so she can’t berate Lloyd That much though. She’d overextended her powers in the Never Realm, and had luckily managed to keep up her adrenaline high all through the rest of the Never-Realm before collapsing the second they’d gotten back to Ninjago. She had just barely dipped into Zane’s power too, and even though Nya had no experience with ice she knew something was wrong there. Having the Scroll of Forbidden Spinjitzu for that long had really done a number on him, judging from the brief but piercing twang that she’d felt.

“Have you seen the shit it’s done?” She leaves the unspoken _to us_ hanging in the air for all to see. “I’ve had enough.”

There’s a quiet “ _language_ ” from Zane and a half-hearted protest from Lloyd about how “ _he’s the leader who should be calling the shots_ ” that earns him a heart-wrenchingly familiar hair ruffle from Kai, but everyone agrees.

Nya argues against a ceremony but they end up having one anyway: later that day, as the sun sets, they hike up to a nearby mountain. They joke and mess around and end up yelling way too loud as they climb, but as they reach the top their mood starts to sober. Nya has the staff carefully bundled in cloth, and she gently sets it down on a patch of dirt where they won’t accidentally start any forest fires. Everyone takes a step back, almost reverently.

Then Kai forms a glob of fire in his hand, almost the size of a softball, and lobs it at the cursed scroll with a flourish that almost doesn’t match his quietly set expression. Ancient wood and paper don’t stand a chance, and it’s soon nothing but ashes, silent cinders floating away into the twilight.


End file.
